He Was The Poet While She Was The Muse
by The-Fan-Who-Lived
Summary: Draco and Shae have been worst enemies ever since first year. But when a terrible affliction unlike anyone has ever seen wracks Shae, and Draco starts doing things that suggest some ulterior motive, things start to get a little odd... WRITTEN BY THE GUNS
1. Chapter 1

_(title and description)_

**He Was The Poet, While She Was The Muse...**

_Draco and Shae have been worst enemies ever since first year. But when a terrible affliction unlike anyone has ever seen wracks Shae, and Draco starts doing things that suggest some ulterior motive, things start to get a little odd..._

**Chapter 1: All Aboard**

"Shit," I whispered, stopping mid-stride and promptly turning on my heel. "I forgot to get that new friggin' potions textbook."

"Shae, we only have half an hour to get to the train station! We don't have enough time to go all the way back to Flourish and Blotts!" Hermione shouted, quite obviously annoyed.

I was already racing down the road.

"Sorry," I mumbled, shoving aside a posse of cackling old witches, who looked at me with disdain. Shops flew past me, and other wizards and witches on the streets looked at me like I was some sort of freak. I breathed a sigh of relief after passing Gringotts - it signaled to me that I was very close to my destination. Sweat dripped down my face, trying desperately to cool me down, but never succeeding. When, at last, I passed Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, I was raggedly breathing and bent over, hands on my knees. After a few minutes of leaning against the wall of Madam Malkin's, catching my breath, I shakily stood up and stretched, remembering what I had first come here for.

I fast-walked up to the huge bookstore, not forgetting the fact that we didn't have much time to get to the train station. I pushed the door open and strode towards the counter. "Excuse me, where are the Hogwarts textbooks for 6th years?"

The thin, gangly store clerk pointed to the oddly dark southeast corner of the room. "Just over there. It's a bit dark - we usually keep the books that like the dark over there, see. I apologize."

"It's alright," I said, not really caring about what the clerk was saying. Huge bookshelves towered over me, kind of imposing, really. Some of them stared at me with furious eyes, others whispered evil things under their breaths, and others just sat there like regular Muggle books. On any other day, I could have spent hours reading and looking at everything in here, but at the moment, I had somewhere to be - and I had to be there fast. I checked my watch while walking. I had 20 minutes left.

The clerk was right; the corner here _was _dark. I could barely see a thing, and I wasted half a minute waiting impatiently for my eyes to adjust. I crouched down, my fingers running over the titles, at last coming across a very old-looking _Potions For The Advancing Wizard_. "Thank god," I muttered. Just as I was standing up, book in arm, a strong hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around. Just as I was about to yell out, another hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off whatever I was just about to shout. As soon as my eyes caught a glint of platinum-blonde hair flashing in a small ray of light beaming in through the window, I slapped his hands away, instantly knowing who it was.

"Fancy seeing you here, Finchley."

"I could say the same thing, Malfoy."

"That you could."

"Look, can you please let me go?" I asked, seeing as he was blocking my way out. "I kind of have to get to the train station, like, _right now."_

"I guess I'll have to save all of the insults I've come up with for school, then?"

"Looks like it, asshole."

He smirked, letting the insult go like it was a mosquito buzzing around. He folded his arms and leaned lazily on one of the nearby shelves. "Nice seeing you too, Finchley. Thanks for the wonderful greeting."

"You're welcome," I yelled back, while paying my 5 sickles to the just shook his head, smirking all the while.

And that was the end of my first encounter with my absolute worst enemy since the end of 5th year.

After that, I ran without stopping, it only occurring to me once that Malfoy should be getting to the train station as well, although he looked like he had no intentions of leaving the shop in a hurry. "That's Malfoy for you, I suppose..." I mumbled, thinking to myself.

In a few minutes, I found myself face to face with a very angry Hermione.

"You could have ordered a copy and just borrowed one from the potions room until it came in the mail! You never think things out, and because of that, there's not going to be any seats left on the train!! Why do you have to always..." After a solid 5 minutes of Hermione ranting, and Harry, Ron, and I running with her silently (and about to burst into laughter the whole time), we jumped into the Weasley's vehicle and drove off to King's Cross Station - arriving exactly 2 minutes before the train was scheduled to leave.

"Just... fucking... go... through... the... damn... wall, Ron." He had never liked walking through the walls, and now was no exception. "If you're not going to fucking go through the fucking wall, I'm going first."

"Suck my dick."

"Sorry, I'd rather not," I said, too annoyed to laugh. Before Ron had a chance to say another word, I was already sprinting towards the wall, pushing my trolley far ahead of me. As I ran, I heard Ron exclaim,

"Fuck you, Shae."

This time, I laughed a little. Hearing Ron curse was still odd, even after all of the years I'd known him. Suddenly, a chill crept over me, and I knew I had passed through the seemingly made-of-stone-wall. I breathed in the smoke, feeling at home immediately. "It's good to be back."

Just then, Ron materialized right where I had just been standing, emitting a steady stream of 'Fuck you's and 'Why'd you have to fucking do that for?'s.

I laughed deeply.

"Let's go," I breathed as soon as my laughing fit was over and Harry and Hermione had joined us. We walked on the train, dreading the fact that there was probably going to be no seats left open. We looked into every window, hoping with all of our mights that there would be at least one compartment that wasn't filled yet.

Our hopes were answered.

"Well, that was lucky," said Harry quietly. I thought to myself that that was probably the first time he'd spoken for quite a while. We filed in, thankful.

I hauled all of my bags, books, etc. onto the empty seat next to me and sighed. "Well, I definitely got my workout today!"

"You have no idea how lame that sounded," Harry said with a grin.

I shoved him playfully. "Thanks a lot."

Just then, the compartment door slid open to reveal a sleek figure wearing all black.

One with platinum blonde hair.

"Well, look who made it just in time for the train to leave? The Golden Trio and their moronic friend, Shae."

All were aboard the Hogwarts Express.

_* NOTE FOR READERS: Chapter 2 should be written and posted by the end of this week, if I decide not to be lazy, and if Leah (The-Fan-Who-Lived) decides to put it up. Constructive criticism is much appreciated, as it will definitely help me write better in the future. Sorry the part where Shae is running toward Flourish And Blotts' was so fast, but I really thought it would drag down the story. ALSO there will be a lot more of Draco in the coming chapters. I wanted to start off slow and keep him in character, so please do not complain about that. THANKS FOR READING!!!*_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to get up here! I promise the next one will be faster. Reviews would be amazing; if you guys have any suggestions at all, PLEASE tell me; I like to satisfy my readers.**_

**Chapter 2: Invasions**

"And look who else is here? The so-called Slytherin Prince and his two bodyguards," I said sarcastically, mimicking the words he'd just spoken.

He smirked, as if sharing some joke with the inner reaches of his mind. "They don't call me the Slytherin Prince for nothing, if that's what you think."

"Then why--"

"For the record, Crabbe and Goyle aren't my bodyguards."

"Then what are they? Your personal servants?"

"You know, Shae, I always knew you were thick, but even I didn't think you'd never heard of _friends_ before. But I guess I should have known, since you haven't got any yourself."

"Yeah, 'cuz, you know, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are just stuffed dummies I decided to bring on the train. Right..."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they were," he muttered under his breath.

I laughed sarcastically (if that's possible...). "Just shut the fuck up, Malfoy. You know you have no fucking friends, because no one wants to be fucking friends with you. I'm sure you know that already. The other fucking Slytherins only want to fucking hang out with you because they're afraid," I put on a high baby voice, "you'll go tell daddy if they're mean to you!" I expected that last comment to get Malfoy somewhat angry - which was exactly what I wanted - but it had a different effect than I thought it would.

He winced, as if in pain, or remembering some unpleasant memory, and then sighed. His fists clenched, and a reflection of the past glinted in his shocking blue eyes. "I know," he whispered, so I could just barely hear him. That was the last thing I thought he would say. "But do you think I chose that? You have no fucking idea of some of the things I've went through, so don't try to pretend you do."

With that, he whipped out his long, dark-wood wand, and pointed it straight between my eyes. The compartment wasn't very large, so if I wanted, I could easily reach out and swat it away with my hand. But where was the fun in that?

Seeing Malfoy there, holding his wand in that very position triggered a memory, of a time way back in first year - mine and Malfoy's first ever fight.

I remember, like it was yesterday, being terrified of the sorting - mostly terrified I would be sent home, and told I really wasn't a wizard, that I didn't belong at Hogwarts... It wasn't a pleasant experience. With those thoughts and others running freely through my head, I had been sorted into Slytherin. Ultimately, that was exactly the house I wanted to be in; something about it appealed to me like no other could. I felt... connected... to it, somehow. From the start, I knew I was destined to be in Slytherin, the house I could now call my own.

I had sat down at the very long Slytherin table, a slight grin on my face, and introduced myself to anyone who cared enough. One of those, apparently, had been Draco. Of course, I hadn't hated him yet - that was the first time I'd ever met him.

"I'm Draco Malfoy. You're Shae Finchley?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Welcome to Slytherin," he said, and smiled.

He was a nice person. I had liked him (in the 'just friends' way). Until a few weeks later.

Draco and I were getting along very well at the time; we could consider each other friends, even. I had been waiting for Draco in the common room; he still hadn't gotten up, even though I was sure he knew we had Transfiguration first hour, and it would take us a long time to get there, seeing as it was on a higher-up floor and we were in the dungeons. Impatient and exasperated, I practically flew up to the boys' dormitories, not caring about the invasion of privacy I was undoubtedly committing. For some odd reason, all of the boys were still sleeping. Immediately, I was intrigued by a tattered-looking black book sitting on a small, narrow desk next to Draco's bed. Now, I cringe at the memory, knowing that if I hadn't looked at the book, we would probably still be friends. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of me, and I grabbed the book cautiously, not wanting to make any loud noises that would wake anyone up.

The cover was stained and torn, but I felt like it had a significance I would most likely never know. I flipped to the first page, seeing drawings of strange symbols and gruesome pictures. A few pages later, actual writing appeared - poems of some sort. At first, I didn't believe Draco had written these - instead, I thought that maybe he copied them because he enjoyed them or something like that. I scanned up until it finished after a couple pages, and saw that it was signed 'Draco Malfoy'. Apart from that, something about it gave me the feeling that Draco needn't have put his signature there. It was the oddest thing, but I _knew _he had written it, and I also felt I had known the poem my entire life, even though I had only skimmed over it, and had never read anything like it before. That wasn't even the worst of it either. Somehow, I knew the poem without knowing what it was about. It didn't make sense in the slightest, so I decided not to dwell on it. Draco had probably put a spell on the diary to prevent anyone from comprehending it.

My fingers were in the process of turning the next page, when just then, Draco rose out of an apparently deep slumber and faced me with a death glare. Words can't even describe how angry he was at that moment. He threw off the covers, and snatched it out of my hand.

"Rictusempra!" he screamed powerfully, knocking me clear out of the room and through the door. I landed with a thud on the other side, stunned. Draco burst through the room with his book in his hand. He pointed his wand at my throat. "Touch this book, or ever go near me again, and I'll kill you. Literally."

I had to admit, I was scared. Even little 11-year-old Draco frightened me with his ferociousness and utter rage. I scrambled to Transfiguration as fast as I possibly could.

After that, Draco and I were worst enemies.

Now, on the train, I was reminded of that experience, no matter how much I wanted to forget it. I gulped the dry air and drew out my own wand slowly from my jeans pocket.

"Can't you wait until school until you start fighting? For goodness sake, put your wands down!" Hermione cautioned.

"You think I'm going to listen to a filthy Mudblood like you? Guess again, Granger," Malfoy said with a sneer.

Attempting to catch him off guard, I shouted, "Stupefy!"

Malfoy and I seemed to be on the same wavelength - we both yelled the spell at the same time.

The curses met in midair and seemed to mingle and swirl around each other, doing an odd sort of dance - beautiful, but very strange. This lasted but a few seconds after the curses shot off towards Draco and I, hitting us both square in the chests.

I was knocked back into the window - which I realized now was very hard, cold, and unwelcoming. Draco, on the other hand, was pushed back into the door, rattling the frame and nearly sliding the entire thing open. Hermione rushed to my attention, while Harry and Ron just sat there trying not to laugh at Malfoy. Suddenly my vision grew spotted and filled with holes. I looked across the way, and saw Malfoy looking dazed, as if he could barely see either.

The next thing I knew, I was out cold.

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When I woke up, everything was white. The walls, the ceiling, the blinds, the sheets... _the sheets_? "Where the fuck am I?" I muttered sleepily, not expecting an answer.

"We are in the fucking Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, in the same fucking bed, because we passed out on the fucking Hogwarts Express." a voice spoke quietly to my left, with a touch of annoyance.

My head snapped towards the altogether-too-familiar voice, my eyes falling on a blonde-haired Draco Malfoy looking at me with one icy blue eye, his right hand rubbing his forehead. My brain took a second to process the situation, but I nearly screamed when I realized exactly what was happening. Acting on impulse, I edged as far away from Draco as I possibly could without falling off the bed.

"Did we miss the feast?" I asked.

"Obviously."

"Fuck."

"We've been here for a while. It's one A.M."

"Fuck."

"Madam Pomfrey apparently was too lazy to set up more than one bed."

"Fuck."

"God, Finchley, I thought you had more than a one-word vocabulary."

"Shut the fuck up."

His mouth turned up in that trademark smirk, and he shook his head subtly.

"Where are our robes and trunks and stuff?" I asked him, looking around the room.

"In the corner over there."

With almost anyone, I would have said thank you, but with Malfoy, that was practically out of the question. Quickly rising from the bed so as not to spend one more second then I absolutely had to, I ambled over to the corner, which, on each of our trunks, were our school clothes.

"I'm going into the bathroom to change. Try coming in, and you're going to be reminded of your ferret experience in fourth year."

I grabbed my clothes, and magically unlocked the door to the bathroom. It was rather large, but somehow gave off a cheery feeling. I liked its bigness, but the happiness it exuded revolted me. I reckoned Madam Pomfrey somehow was able to put a Cheering Charm on the bathroom, for reasons unbeknownst to me.

Just for good measure (and partly because I knew Draco), I hurriedly conjured up about ten bolts of different sizes and placed them on the door. Hopefully if Draco decided he wanted to take a peek inside, they would buy me enough time to react before he came in. I considered the fact that he could easily unlock them in a matter of seconds, but then I just decided I was being an idiot and that I should just get the fuck changed.

I had just jumped into the black pants of my uniform and taken off my grey T-shirt, when the doorknob jiggled, and, acting on instinct, I whispered, "_Accio towel!" _and used it to cover myself up to some painfully low degree before Malfoy conspicuously opened the door. I figured that in the space of time my _Accio_ spell took, Malfoy was able to unfasten all of the bolts. Apparently some part of my was exposed, because Draco smirked, folded his arms, and stared at the towel (which was hardly concealing anything).

"Get. Out. Of. Here. NOW!!!" I yelled menacingly, wrapping the towel more firmly around myself.

"And what if I don't want to?" he asked, trying to sound innocent while intently staring at my chest area.

"And what if I promise you're going to turn into a ferret in about three seconds?"

This got him shuffling out of the room, faking dejection.

I changed quickly, got out of the bathroom, and went to go feed my speckled brown and white barn owl, sifting through my trunk to look for the owl treats.

"Here you go, Tyto, now quit whining."

Tyto gave a hoot of indignant protest.

"Sorry." I said, placing the owl treats back into my case and standing up. While I had been doing this, Draco was in the bathroom. I grinned evilly. It was pretty obvious (if you asked me) what I was going to do right now. I wanted payback.

I stepped quietly over to the wooden door, listening to the swish of clothes being put on. "Bombarda!" I whispered, and jumped backwards.

The door flew clean off its hinges, and fell where I was standing just seconds ago.

I leaped inside of the room, only to find some sort of supermodel looking at me with a bewildered expression. A white collared shirt was clutched in his hands, and his chest was bare. I felt my eyes widen, and I lost all sense of reality as I stared, unable to stop.

The smirk was what clued me in. It wasn't a supermodel I was looking at.

It was Draco Malfoy.

"Looks like we have a new subject for being turned into a ferret, eh?"

I snapped out of my reverie. "Nah, I don't think so," I said sarcastically, and walked out of the door. Before I crossed the threshold, however, I leaned my head in again and said, "At least we're even now."

"You know you just wanted another peak, Finchley."

I felt myself turn red against my will. I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn't think of a comeback fast enough, so I objected with one word: "No!"

"Yes," he said, and slammed the door in my face.

I had quite mixed feelings about that situation. On one hand, I was thoroughly embarrassed. On the other, I felt sort of horny.

Even _I_, Draco Malfoy's sworn enemy, had to admit that he was hot. Like, _extremely _hot. I played Quidditch, and I knew that it was a hard, taxing sport, but I didn't think you could develop that much muscle mass from it. Draco had at least an 8-pack, and he could probably be evenly matched with Hagrid in terms of strength. He had no resemblance to some sort of freak bodybuilder, but god, he looked good.

Dwelling on this fact was just going to make looking at him with clothes on that much harder, since I'd be imagining what was underneath to a larger extent. I pushed these thoughts out of my mind as he walked out of the bathroom, clutching his clothes in one hand. They were shaped oddly square, as if they were wrapped around a book of some sort. I watched him subtly, out of the corner of my eye, as he walked over and dropped his things in his large black trunk. Just before he closed it, I caught a glimpse of that black, old book peeking out of the corner. I definitely wasn't going to say anything, seeing as it was the one thing that had torn apart our friendship, and that was in first year; we had loads of more painful spells to use on each other if the situation were dire enough.

I hauled my trunk out of the room. "See you," I muttered self-consciously.

"Bet I know which part of me you'd like to see next," he replied, and chuckled maliciously.

I looked at him with a positively venomous look, and he stopped laughing. "Watch yourself, Malfoy."

"'Bye, Finchley."

Without a glance back, I threw open the large oak doors that led to the hallway.

As my feet fell softy on the marble floors, I could feel eyes boring into the back of my head.

The ice-blue eyes of Draco Malfoy.


End file.
